Pandora Gets Jealous

by Carolyn Hennesy

  PANDORA

  Gets Jealous

  PANDORA

  Gets Jealous

  CAROLYN HENNESY

  Copyright © 2008 by Carolyn Hennesy

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Published by Bloomsbury U.S.A. Children's Books

  175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010

  Distributed to the trade by Holtzbrinck Publishers

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Hennesy, Carolyn.

  Pandora gets jealous / by Carolyn Hennesy —1st U.S. ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Thirteen-year-old Pandy is hauled before Zeus and given six months to gather all of the evils that were released when the box she brought to school as her annual project was accidentally opened.

  eISBN: 978-1-59990-503-7

  1. Pandora (Greek mythology)—Juvenile fiction. 2. Mythology, Greek—Juvenile fiction. [1. Pandora (Greek mythology)—Fiction. 2. Mythology, Greek—Fiction. 3. Gods—Fiction. 4. Goddesses—Fiction. 5. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.H3917Pan 2008 [Fic]—dc22 2007023975

  First U.S. Edition 2008

  Typeset by Westchester Book Composition

  Printed in the U.S.A. by Quebecor World Fairfield

  3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  All papers used by Bloomsbury U.S.A. are natural, recyclable products made from wood grown in well-managed forests. The manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.

  For Donald

  PANDORA

  Gets Jealous

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  GLOSSARY

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  There was a time, during the golden age of men and gods, when mankind became forgetful, almost to the point of its own destruction. Insolent and disrespectful, the twelve great Olympians thought. People had begun to take the gods' benevolence for granted and became utterly lazy They were either forgetting to make the proper sacrifices to the gods or using the worst parts of the lambs and goats—the entrails, bones, and skin-while saving the best parts for their own feasts. Zeus, the king of the gods, eventually became so enraged at mankind's brazen insolence that he removed fire from the earth, thereby throwing mankind into nothing but endless freezing darkness.

  Prometheus, the Titan, saw mankind's distress and ascended Mount Olympus to steal fire back. When Zeus saw tiny specks of orange flame lighting the black earth below, he hunted Prometheus, captured him, and chained the Titan to a rock on the side of the mountain. Each day, an enormous eagle would gorge upon Prometheus's liver. Each night, because he was immortal, his liver would grow back again. And so his torment went for years and years . . . and years . . . and years.

  Eventually, Zeus's heart softened at the pleading of his son Hercules, and he agreed that Prometheus had finally paid his debt to the gods . . . with one small caveat. One tiny condition.

  After Zeus allowed Hercules to break Prometheus's chains, Prometheus was summoned to the great hall of Olympus. Zeus gave him a piece of Prometheus's own liver as a reminder of his punishment for the theft of fire. And Zeus also gave him a small wooden box.

  In it, each of the great gods had placed an evil or plague that, if set free, would bring torment and sorrow on mankind.

  Forever.

  Prometheus had watched as Jealousy, Vanity, and five other horrible plagues were dropped in one by one, including the greatest plague of all: Fear. Zeus was about to close the lid and imprint his great seal when a cry went up from the assembled gods.

  "Father," said Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, stepping forth. "Should this seal ever be broken, mankind will be lost to a world of sorrow. We beseech you to also put into the box a source of comfort for mankind. Something that will allow every human the desire to go on living, even though the burden will be heavy."

  "What do you suggest, daughter?" asked Zeus.

  From her sky-colored cloak Athena withdrew something she held close in her hand. As she released her fingers, a fine silver mist floated slowly and gently upward. She blew softly and the mist drifted across the room and slipped into the wooden box.

  "Hope," she said. "I include Hope as a gift to mankind. This and this alone will be their sole comfort in times of misfortune."

  With that, Zeus closed the box and brought his mighty hand down upon the hot red wax, sealing it.

  He turned to Prometheus.

  "Be ever grateful that I have released you from your chains. That you should never forget your punishment, I entrust this box to you. You will guard these plagues for the rest of your days, and should my seal be broken, your torment and the torment of those you hold dear is something to be feared."

  Prometheus was tormented and troubled.

  And then he married.

  And then he had a daughter

  And then . . .

  she turned thirteen.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Newly "Maid"

  "You have not been excused!"

  Thirty-seven jaws dropped wide open.

  "By all the gods on Olympus, the first one who stands will very, very much wish she hadn't!"

  Normally, Master Epeus had a quality to his voice that caused every maiden in his class to doze peacefully in the olive grove for the six hours of lessons each day, but now his voice zinged and caromed off the trees like stones from a slingshot gone astray. Each girl froze; those who were almost standing bent their knees and hunched their shoulders. No one more so than the girl farthest back of the group . . . the one with plain brown hair and a slight overbite.

  Master Epeus cleared his throat, sunk his head into his shoulders, and dragged his lips across his yellow teeth. Many of the girls instantly thought of an old, slow-moving but vicious bird.

  "I know what the school sundial says and I know tomorrow is a big day for all, so I shall be brief . . ."

  Silent groans went up all around. Brief was the one thing their teacher was not.

  "I have been instructing young maidens at this academy for over sixty years and I have seen many interesting and unique things brought in for the annual project, but never once in that time has my class taken home any honors for originality, intellect, or effort. No first-place laurel wreath, no honorable mention sheepskin scroll, not even a 'nice try' stone tablet. Do you see my name carved in the wall of honor that leads to the amphitheater? No, I don't think so. By the smile of the great Aphrodite, if this class does not garner at least one prize tomorrow, at least one bronze medallion, there will be daily quizzes on Euclid's Elements of geometry with emphasis on the polyhedra, a five-hundred-page essay entitled 'Why I Love Sophocles' due next week, and all classes will be taught indoors from now on."

  Three girls gasped out loud.

  "And one of you lucky little things will be chosen each week to clean my toenails at the
end of every day, and we all know who will have that honor first."

  Everyone turned to look at the brown-haired maiden. She cast her eyes downward, poking at a lizard tail with her sandal.

  "Better watch it, Pandy!" hissed one girl nearby.

  "Do not congregate here in the olive grove tomorrow," Master Epeus continued. "I expect to see each and every one of you in the amphitheater and on time! Any tardiness will be dealt with severely."

  Master Epeus then trained his sharp, hawkish eyes on Pandora.

  "Perhaps I should have mentioned earlier that I was expecting greatness from you, but I have no fears. Not one! And I look forward to seeing the new, fascinating, but most important, new things you will have brought in for your project. Good day to you all. Great is Greece!"

  "Good day, Master Epeus. Great is Greece," echoed the class.

  Pandora adjusted her toga and robe; sitting so long on the hard ground of the olive grove made the fabric stick ever so slightly to the back of her legs. Alcie and Iole walked over, Alcie picking a fallen twig out of her hair.

  "Hermes' teeth," Alcie began, leading the three of them into the crowd of girls all now leaving the school, "that was pretty obvious."

  "I'll say," said Iole. "He was looking right at you."

  "Yeah, well," began Pandora, "he didn't have to make such a big deal about it. I have no intention of bringing—ow!"

  She was suddenly bonked on top of her head by a hard red . . . something.

  Blood had begun sprinkling from the sky over ancient Athens. It wasn't actual blood, however: each drop was in fact a brilliant red ruby But rubies falling out of the heavens were so commonplace nowadays that Pandora Atheneus Andro-maeche Helena (Pandy to almost everyone) and her best friends Alcie and Iole didn't even bother to pick one up. They each had basketfuls back home.

  "What's going on up there this time?" Iole said, squinting into the sky.

  Pandy tucked her straight, plain brown hair behind her ears and looked up.

  "Bellerophon and Pegasus are fighting the fire-breathing Chimera," she replied.

  "Again?" Alcie said. "Flames of Tartarus, that's the third time this week! Bell's really working hard for his big hero paycheck."

  "My dad thinks there might be a whole family of Chimera attacking farms and crops all over Greece," Pandy answered as another big blood ruby bonked her head again. Suddenly they were in the middle of a ruby hailstorm.

  "We'd better be ready to duck if it falls out of the sky," Pandy said, covering her head with her book sack.

  Alcie puffed her chest out a bit. "Well, if my dad were up there, it would be dead by now."

  Iole choked a little as she giggled.

  "Puh-leeze," Pandy laughed, "your father would be lucky just to stay on the horse! An ordinary man can't kill a Chimera, you have to be a hero!"

  At that moment Pegasus, an enormous milky white horse, steam flying from his nostrils, swooped out of the clouds, folded his huge silver-tipped gray wings, laying them neatly across his flanks, and came to rest a few feet away On his back sat Bellerophon, the only man in all of Greece able to tame him.

  "Hey, Pandora," Bellerophon said. "Alcie. Iole."

  "Hi, Bellerophon," Pandy replied. "How's it going up there?"

  "Not bad," Bellerophon replied, readjusting his leather hair band and snagging the unruly curls out of his eyes. "It's a big one, but nothing Pegasus and I can't handle."

  Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Pandy saw Tiresias the Younger trudging home with a few other boys from the Apollo Youth Academy Her heart skipped a huge beat.

  "Yeah . . . uh-huh . . . well, that's really . . . um Pandy said, watching Tiresias as he disappeared over a hill. Tiresias the Younger was, in Pandy's opinion (and she didn't care if anybody else thought so . . . although everybody did) the cutest youth in Athens. He was also the only one who made her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth whenever he was around.

  "It's got an extra set of teeth, this one," Bellerophon said, aware that Pandy was no longer paying any attention, "and spiked scales. On every scale, a spike! And an extra claw on each talon! Your father would be impressed."

  "Bellerophon." Pandy focused again, now that Tire­sias was gone. "When you're done . . . if you're not dead, I mean . . . could I get some of the white meat? Dad roasted a Chimera haunch last week for evening meal and wow!Totally dee-licious!"

  "So Bellerophon, how long you gonna hide down here?" Alcie asked.

  Iole nudged Alcie in the ribs.

  Stunned into silence, Bellerophon slowly turned his gaze on Alcie.

  "Hide?" he managed to whisper.

  Pegasus shot a wad of horse-spittle in Alcie's direction.

  "I'm not hiding!" Bellerophon squealed. "I was giving Pegasus a rest, for Olympus' sake. But if this is the thanks I get. . . well, I'll just kill the thing and won't bother you anymore!"

  He tugged on the reins, muttering under his breath that the citizens of Athens were so hard to please. The next instant both horse and rider flew up into the clouds, quickly becoming a tiny speck.

  "Okay, bye," Pandy said, watching him soar. "Dark meat is good, too!"

  Ever since she had turned thirteen and had officially become a maiden, Pandora Atheneus Andromaeche Helena, only daughter of the Titan Prometheus, was bored to tears. Well. . . not bored exactly . . . but she couldn't quite put her finger on what she was feeling.

  And this was another typical day Which meant that it was horribly, devastatingly, crushingly boring, and there was absolutely nothing to do. She looked skyward and saw Bellerophon, now a tiny speck, rocketing about on his magnificent winged horse. Gods, how exciting that must be! And there were other heroes, men and women, all over Greece doing wonderful, brave, death-defying things right at that very moment. Hercules. Perseus. Jason and his Argonauts stealing the Golden Fleece! Her curiosity rose inside her like steam. What would it feel like to have a sword in her hand or to fly on the back of a magical animal? And Bellerophon had been right in front of her; she could have asked him for a ride sometime. How she wished she'd spoken up, just so she could have some kind—any kind—of adventure. Stupid. Stupid!

  She kicked aimlessly at a blood ruby as she, Alcie, and Iole walked home from the Athena Maiden Middle School. She felt a large pimple forming on the side of her nose and slumped even further inside her school toga, dragging her book sack on the ground, almost spilling her writing stylus and sheets of papyrus.

  Alcie had been grumbling that she was never going to understand Euclidian geometry and how she wished their teacher, Master Epeus, would take a long dive into the nearest lake. As she started complaining again, Alcie realized that Pandy wasn't paying attention.

  "Pandy, what's wrong now?" she asked. She stopped in the middle of the chariot road, her brownish green eyes narrowing in frustration.

  "I have an appointment with my tooth physician," Pandy said, brushing her hair out of her eyes, staring at the midwinter sky.

  "Great!" Alcie said. "Maybe he'll tell you that your overbite is no big deal and all they have to do is yank a few teeth or put you in a horse bridle for a few months."

  "Oh, wonderful," said Pandy. "Like I don't already totally look like our lead chariot stallion!"

  "Our physician did that to my big brother and our family goat," said Iole, dragging a little behind as usual. "They both look fine, but my brother only likes to eat out of a feed bag now."

  Pandy turned around. "I don't look like a horse!"

  "I never said you did," said Iole quietly.

  "She never said you did, Pandy," said Alcie.

  Pandora stopped and sat beside a crumbling stone wall and looked at her friends.

  Alcie and Pandy had grown up together, almost like sisters, while Iole was the newcomer. lole's father had brought his family over from Crete when Iole was seven, and at first Pandy and Alcie were reluctant to accept her. Iole was small and frail and even now sometimes she couldn't keep up as the three girls strode through the marketplace or the olive
orchards or swam in nearby lakes and rivers. But she was smart as a whip, often using big words when she spoke; not to show off, but only because her brain couldn't come up with anything smaller. It was only after she'd been moved up a year into their class that Pandy and Alcie came to love Iole (especially after she started helping them with calculus homework).

  "I just don't want to go home," Pandy said. "My mom's still working a lot of overtime in her new job as Zeus's chief personal aide, so I'll probably have to babysit, and my little brother's a major pain. I so don't want to go to the physician. Plus, I still don't know what I'm going to bring for tomorrow's big school project."

  "Yeah," said Alcie. " The Enduring Presence of the Gods in Our Daily Life.' Puh-leeze."

  "More like, 'What Have the Gods Done for You Lately?'" said Iole. "But Pandy I thought you had it all worked out!"

  Pandy sighed. "I did, sort of. But everything I wanted to bring was dumb. And 1 kept getting sidetracked. It's like I have one idea and that leads to a thousand million more, and I want to know about them all"

  "You can't fool me," Iole said, the corner of her mouth turning up just a little. "You've been cogitating about Tiresias the Younger. I saw you watching him walk home from school just now, and I've seen the stylus doodles on your papyrus folder."

  "Tiresias the Yummy!" Alcie laughed.

  "Cut it out. . . ," said Pandy, her cheeks coloring.

  "Well," said Alcie, "you've had two moons to figure it out, so it had better be something pretty fantabulous. My dad finally agreed to let me borrow his wooden strap-on toes. He's gonna stay home tomorrow and not walk around."

  "Yes, and explain to me how that's an example of the enduring presence of the gods?" said Iole.

  Alcie sighed. "My dad lost his toes in the last war. Wars are started by Ares, God of—duh—War. Therefore, Ares is responsible for my dad not being able to walk right. Enduring presence. Thank you very much."